by Megan Stobbe
is flattened since everyone still wants more than what their parents had. It takes half a day to demolish and another for what remains brickwork too coarse to reclaim newspaper crumpled seven decades in the walls unfurled again into the day’s brilliance. Afterward an excavator scrapes away the topsoil replacing it with new earth so even the weeds know history won’t be harboured here. But can we rebuild fast enough to house our own impermanence?
Megan Stobbe (she/her) is a poet, communications professional and mom living in Edmonton, Alberta. She is an associate member of the League of Canadian Poets and her work has appeared in their Fresh Voices publication. When she’s not reading or writing, Megan can often be found in her garden or exploring Edmonton’s spectacular river valley.
Capital City Press Anthology 